


Before the Dawn

by CherryMilkshake



Series: At Least Being a Warden Gets You Laid - A Love Story [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bondage, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 19:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4404407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryMilkshake/pseuds/CherryMilkshake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before the Battle of Denerim is fraught with unpleasant revelations for the Wardens of Ferelden. Zevran is unhappy to have an unpleasant revelation of his own. But Geoffrey is ready to make it up to him in language they both understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the Dawn

The night after the Landsmeet, Zevran and Oghren decided to get uproariously drunk. Alistair and Geoffrey had gone to talk with that rescued Warden, but while Alistair had returned, looking somber and in need of some of Oghren's potent stash, Geoffrey was still missing. 

After Alistair had successfully drunk himself under the table, worry started to poke through Zevran's drunken haze. He switched to water, and continued to look for Geoffrey's return. Which refused to come. 

Leliana had already enlisted Sten's help in getting the others to bed, and Wynne was busying herself with setting aside tonics to combat the inevitable morning hangovers. Everyone needed to be at their bests to fight an archdemon and a darkspawn army after all.

Still unsteady on his feet, but in possession of a sound mind, Zevran made his way back to the room he and Geoffrey were staying in. Perhaps his dear Warden had decided to turn himself in early?

There was no light in the room, so Zevran pushed the door open quietly, unsure of whether he would be waking his Warden, or else entering an empty room. 

He jumped when neither proved true. 

Geoffrey was there, yes, but he was awake, sitting upright on the bed, legs tucked up under his chin, blue eyes luminous in the pale moonlight. His fists were clenched.

Something was wrong. Zevran waited for Geoffrey to tell him what it was. "You missed a most excellent party," he said jovially, exaggerating his drunken sway as he sat down next Geoffrey on the bed and leaned in to kiss his cheek. 

Geoffrey twitched away, but Zevran had already noticed it. His Warden smelled of sex, and of the sharp, herbal scent of Morrigan. Tentatively, Zevran swept aside the dark hair covering Geoffrey's ear (so much longer now than it had been when they met), and saw the empty hole where his earring had once been. 

Geoffrey still said nothing, returning to his curl farther down the bed, eyes now closed.

Zevran hated the way he felt his heart clench, hated the bile that rose at the back of his throat. It wasn't the fact he had sex without him, not really. It was that he hadn't respected Zevran enough to ask him first. Did Zevran really mean so little to him in the end? Even after all his pretty, heartfelt words? "How went your Warden meeting?" Zevran pushed on, forcing his voice to calmness. "Alistair came back quite shaken."

"I slept with Morrigan." Geoffrey's voice was tight, rough, edged with recent tears. 

"I gathered that," Zevran said coolly, dropping all pretense of obliviousness. "It's funny, because I seem to recall a conversation where you mentioned you had no interest in women, and I'm honestly surprised that it is with _Morrigan_ of all people that you decided to challenge yourself. Unless you were lying, of course."

"I wasn't lying," Geoffrey mumbled into his knees. He sounded utterly wretched. Some part of Zevran wanted to grab him up and kiss him until he stopped seeming like a man waiting for his turn on the gallows, but the rest of Zevran was hurt and angry and bitter.

"Then why sleep with Morrigan?"

"I don't want to die."

It wasn't the answer Zevran was expecting. "'Die'?" he repeated. A dagger was in his hand before he even consciously thought about it. "Did she threaten you?" he asked darkly.

Geoffrey shook his head and in that rough, wrecked voice, he explained what he and Alistair had learned from Warden Riordan, and Morrigan's offer. 

"I couldn't say no," he whispered. "There's only three of us, and Alistair is going to be king, so he _can't_ fight the archdemon. I know it was wrong of me, but I couldn't… I don't want to die."

Zevran worried his lip, tugging at loose skin with his teeth. The sharp bite of pain as he drew blood helped him stay focused. "And the earring?" he asked.

Geoffrey slowly uncurled one of his hands, revealing the little piece of jewelry. He'd clenched it so tightly that it had left indents in his skin, which were slowly turning red as Zevran watched. "In case you wanted it back," he murmured, holding it out. His hand was trembling.

Zevran considered for a moment, then took it from his palm. His Warden looked _shattered_ , just for a moment, before Zevran scooted over and gently put the earring back into his ear, clasping it with a soft click. "Now, now, my dear Warden, did you think you could escape me so easily?"

Geoffrey still looked unhappy, but there was a spark back in his eye. Zevran slid his fingers into that dark hair, then closed his hand into a fist, giving it a sharp tug. "However, that does not mean you are completely off the hook."

Geoffrey gasped, but moved with Zevran's hand, closing his eyes. Some of the tense lines along his forehead eased. 

Zevran leaned into his ear, murmuring. "This is what you want, yes? If you're punished, you can feel like you've earned your forgiveness."

Geoffrey nodded slightly, his eyes still closed. 

Zevran smiled, then gave himself a beat to get into character. "Strip," he said, all trace of the smile now gone.

Geoffrey sprang to life as he followed the order, clothes and armor falling in a heap to the floor. Zevran snagged a belt before it fell. Stark naked, Geoffrey stood before him, eyes cast downward.

"Turn around, hands behind your back." Zevran gestured with a finger, making a small circle. Geoffrey moved without hesitation. Zevran bent both of his elbows and lay his forearms atop each other, then wrapped the belt around them to secure them. "Back around. Let me see you." The position pulled his shoulders back, opening up his chest. A warrior's physique, broad and strong, and completely at Zevran's mercy. 

"Not too uncomfortable?" he asked, slipping out of his role for a moment. Geoffrey gave him an encouraging half-smile. 

"Good," Zevran said. "Now." He opened up his legs and grabbed Geoffrey once more by the hair, guiding him down to his knees. "You're going to make me nice and hard, and then I'm going to decide what else to do with you."

Geoffrey tried to undo Zevran's laces with his teeth, grunting with the amount of coordination it took. "Did you eat at all?" Zevran asked him, hand still firmly in his hair.

Geoffrey mumbled out a no. Zevran considered stopping, so that he could force some food into the Warden's belly. They all needed their strength, after all. But Geoffrey was desperately working at the closure of Zevran's trousers, tears of frustration budding at the corners of his eyes, and Zevran knew he needed this more than anything else right now.

"Here," Zevran said, undoing his pants himself. "I'll take pity on you."

As if to make up for the sting of failure, Geoffrey swallowed him eagerly down, eyes shining like starlight as he stared up into Zevran's face. Zevran took a deep breath to cover up the low moan that threatened to escape him. He had to keep a level facade, at least for now. "Good boy," he murmured instead, stroking Geoffrey's cheek with a hand. He loved the way he leaned into his palm, eyes fluttering shut, as if Zevran's touch was something precious. Even as his mouth was stuffed full of his cock. His Warden was so full of little idiosyncrasies like that, sweetness and sexiness mixing beautifully into one man.

When Zevran determined he was hard enough, he told Geoffrey to stop. The Warden immediately leaned back on his heels, waiting like his loyal mabari for Zevran's next order. Zevran had several ideas, but he _did_ want to keep this short enough for dinner, and also knew he couldn't do anything that would affect Geoffrey's ability to fight the next day. If his Warden died because Zevran bruised him too badly on this night… Zevran would never be able to forgive himself.

Ahh, being the Master was suffering. So much responsibility.

"On the bed, Warden. Face down, that lovely bottom up."

It took some coordination, lacking any help from his arms, and the way he fell face-first into the pillow would've drawn laughter from Zevran in any other situation. But here, watching Geoffrey squirm, drawing his knees up under him to follow Zevran's order, it wasn't funny at all. 

Zevran grabbed Geoffrey's shirt from the floor and tied it over his eyes. "You know what to say if you want me to stop, yes?" he murmured, trailing his fingers down his back.

Geoffrey nodded. Their usual watchword was Sten. Nothing killed the mood like imagining a grumpy Qunari in their bed. 

Smirking to himself, Zevran loudly went about finding the little bottle of oil he preferred for nights like this. Geoffrey was quivering with anticipation, especially when he heard the soft, wet sounds of Zevran rubbing the oil between his fingers. He stroked one of those slick fingers along Geoffrey's lower back, following the spine down to its end. But instead of slipping into that waiting hole… _Smack!_

Geoffrey jumped as Zevran's palm hit him, groaning in disappointment and pleasure. 

Zevran chuckled. "Did you think you would get what you want so easily? You are being _punished_ , my dear Warden."

Zevran kept his blows light, nothing more than sting and a flush of pink across pale skin. But instead of having his way with him, Zevran undid the belt around Geoffrey's arms and ordered him onto his back.

Wrists were rebound in the front, resting comfortably against Geoffrey's chest. He was hard, drawn up against his stomach, thrumming with his quickened pulse. 

Zevran stripped fully out of his clothes, tossing them carelessly to the floor. Geoffrey made a soft whining sound, blindly seeking out Zevran with his leg. 

"Ah ah ah," Zevran chided, pinning his ankle back down to the bed. "You're not in charge here, my dear Warden."

"Sorry, ser," Geoffrey said quietly, his shoulders drooping. 

Zevran rubbed his leg briefly. "You're forgiven." He went back to the task at hand, which was quietly opening himself up. While he did so, he watched Geoffrey fret, his ears straining for some idea of what to expect next. It made Zevran smile.

When he finished, he wrapped his slick palm around Geoffrey's length, grinning as he gasped and bucked up at the touch. "Now now," Zevran said calmly, moving his hand ever so slowly up and down, pausing at the top to rub his thumb over the tip. "Don't come too early. What would your fellow Wardens say if you put their fabled stamina to shame?"

Geoffrey was panting, drool dripping from one corner of his mouth. 

"Tell me," Zevran said seriously. "Did you fuck Morrigan with this?" He squeezed, not painfully, but enough to warn. 

"Y-yes," Geoffrey said. 

Zevran whistled. "I'm impressed. You came not an hour ago, and yet still so eager." He ghosted the tips of his fingers over Geoffrey's length, enjoying how he squirmed. "Do you remember what she felt like, wet and hot around you?"

"Yes…" His voice was strained, some mix of pleasure and disgust on his face. 

Zevran crawled up and straddled his waist, whispering in Geoffrey's ear. "Do you want to forget?"

"Please," he murmured.

Zevran reached back to position himself, then slid down onto Geoffrey's cock, grinning at the little strangled sound of pleasure he made. 

"N-noo," Geoffrey groaned. "I want— I want to feel you in me. I want you to make me yours, ser."

"Not until you come for me, my Warden," Zevran said wickedly, raking his nails down Geoffrey's chest, leaving white lines behind them. "You are mine to do with as I please tonight."

He was moaning with every thrust now, mouth lolled open as his hips bucked underneath Zevran. He noticed the climax first in Geoffrey's voice, the way it deepened into a long groan, before he felt the trembling of his hips and cock against and inside him. 

Zevran smiled as he lifted his hips free of Geoffrey, relishing the way he lay there, spent and dazed, no more worry on his unlined face. He was young; his face should not be so wrinkled. He pecked his Warden's lips, lifting the blindfold. "Good boy," he said quietly. "You were so very good."

Geoffrey blinked owlishly in the dark, lifting his chin as if begging for another kiss. Zevran obliged.

"How do you want to be, my dear?" Zevran murmured. "On your front? Side? Here on your back?"

"I want to see your face," he whispered. "And I want to hold you. Please?"

"As you wish," Zevran said, undoing the binding on Geoffrey's wrists and leaning back onto his heels and pulling the Warden's legs around his waist. "Grab that pillow behind you," he said, gesturing.

Geoffrey did, and Zevran slid it under his hips, propping them up. "You're too meaty for me to hold you up on my own," he teased, leaning down to kiss his hip.

Geoffrey shook with a small laugh and Zevran smiled. He slicked himself up, then Geoffrey, humming as he took his time. And it was the humming that told Geoffrey the scene was over, and they were no longer Master and servant.

"Zeeeev," Geoffrey whined. "Am I still being punished? Fuck me already. I need you in me, Zev." To punctuate his point, Geoffrey squeezed his thighs, pushing his hips down onto Zevran's fingers.

"So impatient." Zevran clucked his tongue, deliberately slowing down more. Geoffrey groaned in frustration, then gasped when Zevran crooked his fingers, brushing against that sensitive spot, even more sensitive now that Geoffrey had spent himself. "You know," he said conversationally, over the sweet sound of Geoffrey's gasps, "It may be possible for you to come dry like this. Shall we try it?"

Geoffrey threw his upper body back against the bed in frustration. "Just fuck me, you utter tease!"

Zevran laughed as a series of thumps on the other side of the wall could be heard. Who was there? Wynne? _Sten?_ Oh, he hoped it was Sten.

And while Geoffrey's attention was divided, he slid inside. Geoffrey gasped, then grinned as Zevran slid slowly deeper. "Yesyesyesyes," he breathed. "Maker yes!"

More thumps.

This time both of them laughed. 

"Who are we next to?" Zevran asked, his voice interrupted by thrusting and laughter both.

"Oghren, I think," Geoffrey answered, locking his legs around Zevran's back.

Zevran sniggered. "Excellent, my dear Warden." He adjusted the angle slightly, just enough to make Geoffrey practically scream. "You are very loud when I'm not telling you what to do," he teased as his eyelids fluttered.

He lolled his head back, sticking out his tongue. "You love it, don't lie."

"I never once said I did not like it." Zevran stopped for a moment and Geoffrey whined. "Shh, you wanted to hold me, yes?" He quickly readjusted their position so Zevran was no longer kneeling between his legs, but instead they were chest-to-chest, Geoffrey's legs secured around his back.

Smiling, Geoffrey reached up and put his arms around Zevran's shoulders. "Thank you," he said sincerely. 

"Thank me when I make you come without you even being hard," Zevran purred, rocking his hips in just the right way. 

Geoffrey bit his lip, still only half-hard and yet… 

For someone so naturally loud, the orgasm was surprisingly quiet, a low strangled sound as his body trembled, nails painting pretty stripes across Zevran's back. A few more thrusts, keeping him on that crest as long as he could, and Zevran came too—quiet, always quiet.

They slowly blinked at each other in the daze of afterglow.

"Is… is that what women feel like when they come?" Geoffrey asked in awe.

"I wouldn't know. Maybe?" Zevran said with a half-hearted shrug. Ignoring the sticky mess of oil and semen splattered over both of them, he lowered himself down onto the bed and nestled up against Geoffrey's torso. 

Geoffrey smiled and put an arm around him. "Either way, it was amazing. And I feel better now, thank you."

"Ask first next time, yes?" Zevran asked. "I have no problem with you exploring other avenues of pleasure, but I would like to be consulted."

"Of course, love, I'm sorry." Geoffrey's stomach gave a plaintive growl, and Zevran chuckled.

"After we nap, you need to eat, mi amor. Tomorrow is an important day."

"You're right, love." Silence fell, the mood suddenly darkening. "What if I die before I even reach the archdemon?" he asked quietly.

Zevran nestled closer. "Don't curse yourself by saying things like that. There is no way I will let that happen."

"But, Zev—"

Zevran covered his mouth. "No, no more talking. We will nap, then clean up, then you will eat, and we will sleep, and by the end of tomorrow evening, the Blight will be over."

"Okay." Geoffrey rolled onto his side, gathering Zevran into his arms. "I love you, Zevran."

To Zevran, it sounded too much like "goodbye". "Tell me again tomorrow," he said.

Geoffrey squeezed him tightly. "Yes, ser."

**Author's Note:**

> When Duncan made Geoffrey Cousland a Grey Warden, he didn't take into account how desperately _honest_ he is. There goes all that secrecy business. Probably for the best he went chasing after the Calling.


End file.
